


Do you recall when the war was just a game?

by CandyCla



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Basically Tom and Joe are in the same regiment and are sent together on the message delivery mission, Hurt No Comfort, There's some blakefield and joeslie if you squint really really hard, Will is in the 2nd Devons, i guess, this is my first fic I don't know how to do this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24260107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyCla/pseuds/CandyCla
Summary: A Reverse AU in which Tom and Joe are sent together to deliver the message to the 2nd Devons
Relationships: Joseph Blake & Tom Blake
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	Do you recall when the war was just a game?

**Author's Note:**

> Because it seems to be ao3 tradition, the title is from the song Stabat Master by Woodkid

At school, most of Joseph Blake's friends had siblings, and this would often make the young boy jealous. He was tired of listening to stories about adventures shared with brothers and sisters without being able to have his own. 

From what he'd heard, siblings were partners in crime, best friends you could joke with about grownups or use to do fewer chores. So when his parents announced him with a nervous smile that he would have a little brother, Joe erupted with joy and immediately started thinking of his upcoming adventures with his brother.

But things were quite far from Joe's expectations, and when his mother's belly started swelling, the boy grew nervous.

"Did mummy eat the baby?" he asked nervously his father one day.

His father dismissed the question with a laugh and told him that things did not work this way. This answer did not appease Joe, but he kept waiting patiently to meet his brother.

And finally came the day when he stumbled in a hospital room where his mother and his little brother were waiting silently. Joe approached slowly and looked at the baby, sleeping peacefully. Never in his life had he seen a human so small. He touched one of his cheeks softly with a finger and looked at his mother.

"What's his name?" he asked faintly not to wake him.

She smiled sweetly and, in a hushed voice, she answered, "Thomas".

Joe looked at the child without saying anything more.

"You wanna hold him?" his father asked as he put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I don't want to hurt him."

He chuckled quietly.

"You won't."

His mother smiled at them once again and helped the boy take his brother in his arms. Joe took the time to enjoy the moment. The baby cradled in his arms seemed so small and fragile. He held him with care, moving gently, trying not to break the tiny baby. A smile found its way on Joe's face when Thomas started moving his arms around as if he was trying to reach for his brother.

"Hey, Tom," Joe finally whispered softly.

  
  


“ _Down to Gehenna or up to the Throne. He travels the fastest who travels alone,_ ” the general facing the two brothers declared in a solemn voice, “Wouldn’t you say, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir. I would.”

Joe eyed the man in the corner of the room and turned without a word, stepping into the daylight.

“Bit dramatic, innit?” Tom laughed behind him.

“Guess that’s all his job is about,” he answered. “Let’s get to it then, no time to lose.”

“ _He travels the fastest who travels alone,_ ” Tom mocked once they were far enough from the dugout.

The message the general had just given Joe felt heavy in his hands, he looked at it quickly and secured it in one of his pockets. 

The day had started pretty quietly for the two brothers. As quiet as it gets when you’re in the middle of war anyway. They had found a calm place to read a letter they had just received from their mother when Sergeant Sanders disturbed their peace. Unwilling to make the Sergeant angry, the men had put the message away without even reading it and had followed him in the mud of the trenches.

They were led to General Erinmore who told them slowly, emphasizing every one of his words, that they had to deliver a message to the 2nd Devons or thousands of men would die. The brothers had looked at each other with uncertainty, clearly feeling the weight of the duty on their shoulders.

“Wait,” Joe started after a thought, “Isn’t Will in the 2nd Devons?”

He saw Tom’s eyes widen, the task getting even more critical than it already was for them.

Back in England, William Schofield would often visit his grandmother, who happened to be the Blakes’ neighbour. She was a lovely old woman and had made sure that her grandson would be properly introduced to the boys. Over his visits, Will had grown closer to the two brothers, and he’d easily find himself carried in their antics every now and then.

For some reasons, the man had a soft spot for Tom. There were nights when Joe would find the two of them laying in the middle of Mrs Blake’s orchard, exchanging stories in the darkness of the night. And then there were days when they’d simply joke around, throwing cherries at each other. Those games were usually stopped by Joe, worried they might waste too many cherries. Although Will would immediately apologize for his behaviour, Tom would only stop after wrestling a bit with his brother. These days full of joy would often end up with the three boys making cherry pies together. 

With the distant memory, Joe started feeling a hint of nostalgia.

“Huh,” Tom let out a strangled noise, bringing his brother back to reality, “Yeah. Yeah, he’s with them.”

He held onto his rifle, his steps getting quicker and his boots throwing even more mud around him.

“Can’t let him die in a Germans’ trap,” he added, as to explain his sudden change in pace.

The brothers quickly made their way through the trenches, leaving a few men grumbling behind them about how they were heading in the wrong direction. Joe ignored them, knowing Tom would respond for the both of them. 

It was hard to walk in the mud, and Joe had to prevent his younger brother from knocking down wounded soldiers to avoid more havocs, but they eventually managed to reach the front line where Tom found a man with a dog peacefully sleeping on his lap.

Joe wondered how the poor animal had found itself in such a place. Its family had probably fled, being so fast to pack their things that they had forgotten about the dog. It was quite common for men in the trenches to adopt lost animals. This was the best way to keep their mind away from this senseless war.

“Are you the Yorks?” Tom asked the man.

He nodded.

“We’re looking for Major Stevenson.”

“Killed a couple of nights ago, Corporal. Lieutenant Leslie has command.”

Joe choked when he heard the familiar name, memories of whispers in a hazy night coming back to him. He tried to shove them away as best as he could.

“Where can we find him?” Tom continued, ignoring his brother.

“Next dugout.”

Joe grabbed his brother’s wrist and led him towards the dugout where they found a sleeping Leslie. Upon the vision of the man, Joe tried to make himself as small as possible.

“Sir?” Tom said loudly beside him.

Leslie opened his eyes and gazed at them for a moment.

“Well, if it ain’t Joe Blake. Long time no see,” he said with a grin after spotting him.

Joe sighed and greeted the man. He had met Leslie upon a quiet night away from no man’s land. Tom had already gone to sleep while most men had stayed together to play some games and drink a lot. While the night had become a blur to Joe, and it was probably for the better, he did remember getting insanely drunk with Lieutenant Leslie.

“Are you our relief?” he laughed and Joe wondered if he was drunk again, “Maybe you’re just here for another drink. I wouldn’t mind.”

Tom sent a questioning look to his brother. Joe knew he would have to give him answers at some point but he decided to ignore it for now.

“We have to cross here,” he muttered.

Leslie’s brows furrowed and Tom handed him Erinmore’s letter.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. That’s the German front line,” he said, gleeful giggles completely gone.

The lieutenant raised on his feet and looked at them for a moment.

“Bastards,’ he muttered before turning around.

Joe didn’t know who it was really directed to but he did not ask, hoping deep down these words were for General Erinmore.

The man huffed before looking back at Joe. 

He made a few steps, and spoke again, “It’s a trap.”

The lieutenant was now extremely close to the oldest Blake, leaving him uncomfortable. It was now easy for him to notice the exasperation on the man’s face. Two more men sent to die stupidly; he probably was thinking.

“But chin up. There’s a medal in it for sure. Nothing like a scrap of ribbon to cheer up a widow, am I right?”

Ignoring his urge to get as far from Leslie as possible, Joe sent him a challenging glare.

“What widow?” He answered with a sneer, leading the other man to chuckle.

“Alright”, he said before explaining to them how to get through no man’s land.

Joe listened earnestly, trying to remember all the details the man mentioned. The brothers would reach the other side completely safe. They had to.

“Good luck, I guess,” Lieutenant Leslie let out once he was done.

Joe gave him a side-eye before gripping the ladder on the trench wall. He looked at his brother who looked back with determined eyes. An unspoken agreement had just been made between the two of them.

They stepped on no man’s land with memories of fights they had had with classmates, of evil teachers they had faced and punishments they had endured together. They walked as one on the destroyed battlefield with the memory of their father’s death and how they had supported each other while their mother was too weak to take care of them.

They’d been through everything together and they knew that this was just another story in their life full of shared adventures.

  
  


“Even their rats are bigger than ours,” Tom said with astonishment, showing the animal to his brother by the light of his torch.

They looked at the rat as it grabbed one of the bags.

As it had been planned, the brothers had made their way through no man’s land without a problem. Joe had felt a wave of relief when they had found the trenches completely empty, just as General Erinmore had said. They had walked around the enemy's trenches and eventually discovered a dugout completely desert except for the presence of some rats. The only signs of human life left were some of the things the Germans had not found necessary to take with them, names of loved ones carved in the walls and forgotten family pictures.

“What do you think’s in the bags?” Tom spoke again.

“Thinking about food, aren’t you?” Joe chuckled, still eying the enormous animal, now walking around the room.

“Didn’t eat anything today. The general gave us some food though, right?”

Joe nodded, looking back to his brother.

“Nothing compared to mum’s food anyway,” he whispered.

“Don’t mention it. I never thought I’d miss her pudding so much.”

They were interrupted by a loud noise. They immediately turned towards it, raising their rifles, hearts racing. To their relief, it was just the rat from earlier who had fallen on the ground.

“Little bastard,” Tom laughed.

But another, much louder noise, shook the walls of the dugout and Tom found himself flung on the other side of the room, his back meeting violently the wall. He tried to steady himself as best as he could. Of course, the damn Germans had to leave traps behind them. He looked around for his brother who was nowhere to be seen. The young man grew panicked and started shouting for Joe’s name between a few coughs caused by the dust.

There was no answer. His breath got quicker, the thought of Joe, lifeless, buried in rumbles, invading his mind.

Suddenly muffled screams resonated through the room. Tom staggered quickly towards the sound and started digging frantically, begging for his brother’s life. He felt the fabric of his uniform and finally found his face covered with dust. With a hint of relief, he gripped his brother’s arms to get him up.

“Come on, you heavy bastard,” he breathed tears in his eyes, “You’ve got to get up!”

He shook his brother’s body, forcing him to wake up. When Joe opened his eyes with a gasp, Tom felt like he could breathe again. He grabbed his brother’s arm and made him follow as best as he could.

“The whole thing’s coming down, we have to get out of here.”

Joe held onto his brother’s arm as if his life depended on it. His life did depend on it. The man was terrorized. He couldn’t see a thing and for what he knew he could have gone completely blind with the explosion.

“Stop,” they came to a halt, “It’s a mineshaft. We’ll have to jump.”

For a second, Joe was left with nothing to hold onto. He couldn’t see, his brother was gone and there was too much noise around him to understand what was going on. 

He cried after him, “I can’t jump, Tom. I can’t see.”

“You need to trust me,” the young man shouted back, “Jump!”

And so he did, blindly, one of his feet almost falling into the hole below him.

“Don’t let go of me,” Tom called as he caught Joe, saving him from falling.

They made their way through the collapsing place and eventually found light. They walked far enough from the loud noises of the crumbles before sitting down. Once they were safe, Joe reached quickly for his canteen and poured water in his eyes, hoping he hadn’t really gone blind. It wasn’t long before his brother shared with him some of his own water.

“You know what,” Tom started once Joe had managed to steady his breath, “I feel like this is some trick played by fate.”

Joe groaned but his brother completely ignored it.

“Remember when you hit me in the face with a shovel,” he continued. “There was blood everywhere; mum was so mad. Thought you had killed me. Well, now you’re the one who got almost killed. Wish I was the one who’d triggered that trap though, at least I would’ve played my part instead of that bastard rat.”

Tom could say whatever he wanted, Joe saw the relief in his brother’s eyes. He could feel the hand laying gently on his shoulder as if Tom was trying to remind himself that, yes, Joe had survived that explosion. He knew his brother well enough to recognize the trick he was using to divert his attention from the shitty situation they were in. The older man had used it himself on his little brother more than once to stop him from crying and avoid punishment from their parents.

“Right,” he said, his voice still shaking, “some superior forces are trying to kill me because I hit you once in the head. And not even that hard.”

Tom gasped, pretending to take offence, “You’re kidding me? I still have a scar from that.”

Joe laughed silently and took a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, hoping his brother wouldn’t actually hear him admitting he had saved his life.

“I wasn't gonna let you die because of some rat,” the youngest answered with a smile. 

They fell silent, enjoying the peace that had replaced the chaos of the dugout, and appreciating the fact that they were still alive.

“You’re good to go then?”

Joe took a loud breath and nodded as his brother got out the flare Leslie had given them earlier, to signal that they had joined the other side safely, and fired it.

“By the way,” he started, watching the light streak through the sky, “From where exactly did you know that guy?”

Joe glared at his brother. This didn’t feel like the right moment to talk about that kind of things.

“Come on, you can tell me,” he sent him a pleading look. “I’m your brother. We share everything.”

“Piss off,” Joe groaned.

“Alright, whatever. I don’t care anyway.”

They exchanged a look before Joe sighed heavily, finally deciding to tell him.

“Got drunk with him one night. That’s it.”

Tom stared at his brother. He didn’t seem convinced, but he simply decided to shrug it off.

“Alright, let’s find that stupid town,” Joe spoke again as he got up with the help of his brother.

“Ecoust is directly south-east. If we keep that bearing, we should make it.”

Tom showed a small track, appearing between destroyed weapons the Germans had left behind them.

“Are you sure about that?” Joe looked at the path that seemed to lead to a small wood.

“What? Of course I’m sure,” the younger man answered, “You saw the maps, heard the General.”

“I’m just saying that we got lost more than once because of you.”

“Well, where you wanna go?” Tom’s brows furrowed lightly, “As far as I’m concerned I’m better with maps than you are.”

“Maybe we should try to find an actual road instead of getting ourselves lost in some kind of forest.”

“So what? You’d rather get us lost in the wrong direction.”

“Not in the wrong direction,” Joe roared.

“Yes, wherever you wanna go, it is the wrong direction!” his brother shouted back.

They looked at each other suddenly silent. Of course, it was not their first argument, but Joe saw how upset Tom looked. The young man retreated a little, frowning, trying to control his temper. Joe couldn’t help but notice the tears that had slowly found their way to his eyes.

“We don’t have time to get lost,” Tom finally explained, “Just trust me on this one.”

Joe pouted a little. But he understood. It was not about them. It was not about who was right. It was about finding Will alive.

He gave a small smile to his brother, “Alright. But if we do get lost that’s on you,” he said lightly.

Tom glared at him before walking towards the path without a word.

  
  


"Cherries. Lamberts," Tom said, grabbing a blossom.

It was not long before the two brothers found themselves standing in a small orchard, cherry blossoms flying slowly around them. It looked like snow, and for a moment, Joe thought he was home.

"I'm pretty sure these are dukes," he spoke, a small smile on his face.

He glanced at his brother, who was looking around him absentmindedly, probably feeling the same as Joe, and strode through the orchard to join him.

"Of course you'd think so," the youngest retorted, turning his face towards him, "Trying to contradict me again."

A smirk grew on Joe's face as they started walking towards a farmhouse not far.

"Well, I'm not the bastard who would always do anything to avoid picking up cherries in mum's orchard."

Tom groaned.

"Don't be bitter."

"Would always take the whole day because of your lazy arse."

Tom shook his head, laughing, “Not my problem.”

He raised his eyes to look at the farmhouse and gestured towards it.

“Seems abandoned.”

“Let’s just look around to make sure,” Joe replied, “But don’t think we’re done. Once we’re home, you’re doing all the chores.”

“Not fair.”

Joe let out a laugh before falling silent as they approached the house. If it weren’t for the war, this place would be filled with joy and nature. If it weren’t for the war, it would be just like home; Joe thought as they walked around it. 

But those memories of home vanished as fast as they had come.

  
  


Everything had gone way too fast for Joe. 

They just had the time to look around the farmhouse when a German plane had slammed into the barn right next to them, the two brothers barely escaping from the disaster.

“Joe, we gotta help him,” Tom shouted at his brother after they had gotten the pilot out of his burning plane.

The man had hesitated a second. He had given a look at his brother who was looking back with pleading eyes, and he had wondered what would their mother think if she ever saw them in this situation.

“Yeah. Okay. I’m gonna get him water. Keep an eye on him,” he had answered.

Joe had turned his back for a few seconds only, but it was enough for the german to plant a knife in his brother’s stomach. Joe had screamed, had shot the man and had screamed even more. He had watched dreadfully Tom removing his uniform to see the blood escaping quickly from his body. And now he was watching helplessly his brother as he was dying in his arms.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Tom,” Joe whispered with teary eyes.

He had desperately attempted to get his brother up, to get him moving. Maybe they could have found help together. But as soon as he had gotten on his feet, Tom had screamed with agony. This was the most painful thing Joe had ever witnessed. It felt like a nightmare. He wanted to get those sickening screams out of his mind.

Joe tried to calm his own breath. He had to. For Tom. He couldn’t let him notice his despair. He couldn’t let Tom’s last sight be his teary face. But he couldn’t help the panic that was creeping over him. 

“Let’s just… Let’s just sit,” his brother breathed back.

“You’re alright. You’re gonna be alright.”

Joe knew he was lying. He knew it, and he hated himself for saying such a terrible lie to his brother. There was no one coming to help them. There was no aid post near them. They were alone and Tom was dying.

He watched as gleams of life slowly disappeared from his eyes. No, this was not happening; he thought. He couldn’t lose his baby brother. He was just dreaming and he would wake up at home to his mother's singing, any minute now. 

But Tom spoke again, “Are we being shelled?”

Joe looked up. The barn had collapsed and cherry blossoms had been replaced by embers.

“No,” he held onto his brother, “The barn’s on fire.”

As he spoke, he felt his brother move beneath him, reaching for his stomach.

“Am I dying?” he asked with a trembling voice, shock easily noticeable on his face.

Joe hugged him tighter, unable to speak. He couldn’t tell Tom what he wasn’t even ready to believe himself.

“Tom,” a sob constricted his throat.

An expression of horror formed on his brother’s face; he didn’t need him to say more. Understanding dawned on him. Tears slowly filled his eyes, and his lips started shaking. Joe hated seeing him this way. Tom was meant to be full of youth and joy.

He looked around him desperately, trying to find anything that could save his brother. When he realized no miracle was coming for them, he simply reached into his tunic to get out of his pocket one of their family pictures, hoping the sight of home would bring peace to Tom. His brother slowly took it from his hands and pressed it firmly on his chest.

“Find Scho for me, alright?” he whispered after a moment.

“I will.”

“Don’t let him believe it was his fault," he added.

Joe held back his tears as best as he could. He knew it wasn’t Will’s fault. It was his fault. He was the one who was supposed to look after his brother. It should have been him. Tom was too young, too innocent, for this. Joe should have stayed with the pilot while he was getting water. Hell, they should have killed the damn pilot on sight. That was what was asked of them anyway. This was not fair. 

Of all men, Tom was the one deserving to live.

“And tell mum I wasn’t scared.”

Joe winced at the mention of their mother. What would she think of him? What would she think when Joe would come back and tell her that he just watched while her son was dying? Just a year before he had promised her he would protect Tom, and now he was failing miserably. 

“You don’t have to be, Tom,” he whispered, “I’m here.”

“I know. M’not.”

They fell silent for a moment, Joe holding his brother’s hands tightly, letting him know that he was still there, that he wouldn’t go anywhere.

“Joe, speak to me,” Tom finally broke the silence, breathlessly, “tell me you won’t get lost.”

Joe choked out a laugh, but it was hitched by a sob, there was no real joy to it.

“I won’t,” he answered, “I have a better sense of direction than you think, y’know.”

“Yeah?” Tom laughed weakly.

“Yeah. Remember when we went into the woods for the first time together?” 

His brother smiled lightly. “Yeah.”

“Wanted to build a fort but it was getting dark, and you were crying like a baby, saying some wolves would eat us or whatever. But they didn’t,” he had to keep speaking, he had to so his brother wouldn’t think of the blood soaking through his tunic, “Because I was there with you. And we found our way out by following the city’s lights. The only thing you got that day was a nettle sting. Remember that?”

A sad smile formed on Joe’s face as he felt a wave of nostalgia. Now more than ever, he wished they could go back to that peaceful time. He looked at the horizon quietly, trying to avoid the sight of his brother, waiting for an answer he knew would never come.

“Tom?” Joe finally let out shakily, still hoping he had just dreamt all this.

But he finally looked down and collapsed on his brother's body, searching desperately for any sign of life, for a heartbeat. But there was nothing. His brother had stopped breathing. He let go of his hands slowly, looking at his own now covered in blood. His brother's blood. The sight made him want to throw up. His pulse was beating in his ears loudly. His vision was getting blurry. It felt like he was drowning. He tried to scream, but there was no sound coming out of his mouth. He had let his brother die.

He sighed heavily, tears forming in his eyes, and turned his head to the sky, praying silently. Deep down, Joe hoped it would start raining, droplets of water cleaning his bloodied hands. Sure, bad weather wouldn’t help him in his mission, but it didn’t seem fair that the sun was shining so brightly in the sky while Tom was lying dead on the ground. 

He remained there, weeping for his brother, for a few minutes, maybe more, maybe less, when a voice interrupted him in his mourning.

“You alright, mate?”

Joe lowered his eyes to find two privates, slowly approaching him. For a second, he wondered if things could have gone differently if they had been there earlier. He closed his eyes and decided to ignore the thought for now. He had to focus on his brother. 

He sniffed and spoke weakly, “Can you help me?”

He stood slowly and clutched on Tom’s arms. The men understood and helped him carry the body.

“I just,” Joe thought he was suffocating, “I just want to let him rest by the cherry trees.”

The men didn’t protest. They followed him without a word, even when their Captain joined them while they were lowering the dead body.

A single cherry blossom fell in Tom’s hair as the Captain gave orders to his men. Joe couldn’t hear, too focused on his brother.

Cherry blossoms usually meant home. And for the first time in his life, for the first time since the beginning of this bloody war, Joe realized that home was no more. Not without his brother napping peacefully in the orchard, Myrtle wagging her tail joyfully by his side.

“A friend?” The Captain asked quietly as he was approaching.

Joe glanced at him, “My brother, sir.”

The man nodded quietly.

“What are you doing here?”

He sighed and explained everything to him as best as he could, trying his best to contain his tears.

“Come with me,” the Captain said once Joe was done.

He looked at him with wide eyes as the man started walking away. He couldn’t leave his brother like that. 

But as the Captain realized Joe wasn’t following him, he insisted, “Come with me. That’s an order. We’re passing through Ecoust. We can take you some of the way.”

  
  


“Ma petite.”

Joe stared at the baby without a word. He felt completely numb and couldn’t comprehend what was happening to him.

He had looked death in the eyes, he had run through the dark streets of Ecoust, and his steps had eventually led him to this french woman who had helped him with the few English words she knew. Yet, while doing all this, he had felt like a simple observer.

“What’s her name?” he asked quietly as he was getting out of his dazed state.

“Je ne sais pas,” the woman answered weakly.

Joe looked at her, slowly translating her words. When he finally understood, he remained silent, knowing what it meant.

She sat next to him with the baby in her arms. As the child looked at him with big blue eyes, Joe felt his throat tighten. A teardrop rolled by his cheek and before he could contain it, others followed, leaving a salty taste on his lips. As the small girl tried to reach for him with her little arms, he could not help thinking of his brother. He was just as frail and tiny when he had met him for the first time.

And as much as he hated to think of it, the baby would most likely die soon too. She would never experience the joy of life. She would never get to run in the grass or play fetch with a dog or catch tadpoles in a pond. She would just be another poor soul the war had taken.

Joe pushed the thought away and quickly wiped his face, raising his eyes towards the woman. Her whole body was shaking. She seemed so scared, and there was nothing Joe could do to help them. He had to move on. He had to find the 2nd Devons and save even more innocent lives from death.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered before getting up.

Alarm appeared on the French woman’s face when she realized what was happening.

“Non. Stay,” her voice was shaking, “Stay. Please.”

Joe took a short breath before looking at them one last time. He shook his head, “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t give her the time to say another word. He rushed in the dark streets and started running blindly again. He would keep running until he’d find William Schofield.

  
  


Joe was growing desperate. He kept seeing faces. Dying faces. Unknown faces. Faces of soldiers he couldn’t save. As he rushed through various tents, he hoped William wouldn’t be one of those soldiers. One of those bodies, just like his brother’s, left alone to rot in French fields. Leaving families with nothing but an empty coffin to bury.

“We have to get him to the aid post.” A recognizable voice said in the distance.

Joe immediately turned towards it to try and find the man to whom it belonged. He knew he had heard it back home, long before this mess.

Heart racing, he rushed between more wounded soldiers.

“Joe?”

The man turned in the voice’s direction. The familiar face of his childhood friend was right before him, and he felt like he could finally breathe again.

“Will,” tears were coming to his eyes, “You’re alive.”

Will joined him with quick steps.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to…” 

Joe couldn’t find the words nor the courage to speak to Will. But after a short moment of silence, he spoke again.

“I’m the one who stopped the attack. I was sent here by some General with Tom.”

William’s eyes widened but he did not speak, waiting for Joe to say more.

“Will, Tom is… He’s... ” 

Joe couldn’t bring himself to say the word. It would make things too real when he was still hoping he could turn towards his brother and have an argument over who was their mum’s favourite. The other man didn’t need more anyway. He lowered his gaze, trying to handle the news.

“How did it...” he stuttered before his voice broke, unable to complete his question. Joe didn’t want to answer it anyway. So they simply looked at each other with watery eyes.

Joe then reached for William, taking him in a tight embrace that could have felt like home if dying men were not screaming a few meters away from them. As Will placed his hands on Joe’s back, the man felt overwhelmed by the exhaustion he had held back since the day before. He felt Will’s shoulders shake below him and he let out a sob.

After a moment, they finally let go of each other, exchanging another look with reddened eyes.

“Do you mind if I rest a little?” Joe spoke weakly.

Will shook his head and led the man to a quiet place, behind a tree.

Once he had settled, Joe let his head rest against the bark. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander when the memory of a letter from back home emerged in his head.

He reached for his pocket and finally opened the letter with shaking hands. Joe held his breath as he read the tales of a quiet and peaceful place in England’s countryside. A place full of cherry trees just blooming and childish laughs ringing around a house. He read it, again and again, tears in his eyes, wishing he could get back to that place. 

After letting his eyes roam over his mother’s writing one last time, Joe dropped the letter on the grass and closed his eyes.

“Myrtle’s having puppies,” he whispered into the emptiness beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading my story!  
> This is my first fanfiction ever AND my first fiction in years (and also the longest text I've ever written in English, ahah pain) so my deepest apologies if it was a bit messy or clumsy! I hope you liked it anyway because I sure did enjoy writing it.  
> 


End file.
